


For Want of a Toothbrush

by Chordae



Series: The Mandalorian and His Child Entourage [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, ManDadlorian, did I use that tag right?, probably not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22194247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chordae/pseuds/Chordae
Summary: Din can’t findanythingnowadays.
Series: The Mandalorian and His Child Entourage [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592737
Comments: 14
Kudos: 212





	For Want of a Toothbrush

**Author's Note:**

> A few little snippets of Din losing things because of his kids.  
> 

[A Drawing of Tahns](https://chordueue.tumblr.com/post/190325224851/sloppy-tahns)

* * *

  
Din Djarin stands before the mirror, helmet discarded halfway across the lavatory. His hair, despite him _just_ waking up, is pressed flat against his head and only a few errant strands poke out from the mop. His eyesight’s groggy and his eyes are half-lidded in exhaustion as he reaches for his toothbrush— only to find absolutely nothing on the sink.

A little more awake now (except, no, he’s still not awake at all), he blinks at the empty countertop, only finding a half-empty tube of toothpaste and an even emptier bottle of soap. The only toothbrushes he can find are the kids’, his own completely missing from the picture.

He sighs, then staggers to the lavatory door, creaking it open just a bit so his voice will carry.

“Who has my toothbrush?” He asks in resignation, and quite loudly at that.

The clatter and subtle noise of his kids playing come to an abrupt halt, replaced by harsh whispers and low warbling.

After a bit longer than he would’ve liked, tiny feet run down the corridors and stop at the door of the lavatory.

“Helmaa?” His kid trills questioningly.

“No.” Din replies, a bit amused.

At his reply, a tiny, green, _grubby_ hand peeks through the crack of the door, wiggling around Din’s toothbrush in his grip.

“Thanks.” Din says, and now he’s definitely amused.

His kid warbles something nonsensical, then scuttles off to play again.

Din runs a still-not-gloved hand through his hair, and he can’t help his smile.

(Then he realizes he has no idea what the kids were doing with his toothbrush and washes it a few times too many.)

* * *

Din stands in front of the alien, his _bounty,_ and searches through his pockets.

 _Shit_ , he thinks, hysterical. This is usually around the time he acts _cool_.

(The puck is in here, _somewhere._ He knows it is— was?)

Instead, he looks like a fumbling single father which is— yeah.

“Do you need something, Mando?” The bounty offers up, staring into her drink then peeking at Din’s surplus of children. She looks about ready to bolt.

Claws tug on the back of his cloak, and he’s met with the sight of Tahns offering him up the puck a bit abashedly.

Din mutters his thanks, clicks it on, then deposits it on the counter in front of him.

“You’re either coming in hot, ” he shifts his free hand to the blaster on his belt, ”-or cold.” Din says, a squealing green kid attached to his chest and a furry one hiding behind his leg.

Perhaps one would assume that a bounty hunter with two kids on him would be less terrifying, but alas, Din stands, the epitome of death.

(His kid squeals and Din gently shushes him, Tahns throatily asks for a glass of water with an affirmative from Din, and that might’ve deducted from his targeted demeanor.)

She willingly gives herself up. Whether out of pity or actual fear for her life, Din isn’t sure.

* * *

Din resolutely tries to snuff the low swell of fear, his hands subtly shaking as he tries to get a grip.

-Except, no, he doesn’t need to get a _grip_ , he needs to find _his rifle that’s **missing** because there are currently two children aboard his ship. _

With the door to the armory wide open, he searches it top to bottom, side to side.

After a long few minutes of searching and panicking, he realizes it’s on his back with a heavy sigh and a grumble.

Before he turns to leave the armory, he takes note of a missing explosive, and immediately goes to check his pockets.

Not finding it, he turns around and spots his kid gnawing on the bomb as if it’s a _chew toy_.

Din does not scream— he just calmly confiscates the bomb.

(He _does_ scream and hurriedly confiscates the explosive, scolding his kid in his panic.)

* * *

” _Shit._ ” Din curses, because he _swears_ Tahns was just behind him, their claws mangling the bottom of his cloak.

”Sht.” His kid parrots, his own panic building when he isn't reprimanded by his father.

Trying to keep his alarm indiscernible, Din hurries around the marketplace. Even his kid strapped to his chest is beginning to audibly panic, asking unintelligible questions to his father and warbling for Tahns.

He catches sight of a familiar tail, furred and well-kept, turning the corner ahead. Din picks up his pace, turns the same corner, and spots Tahns at a stand. The shopkeep shakes his head at Tahns’ question, and then they turn away, obviously panicking. Their ears flick errantly and their tail subtly sways, giving away their unease.

”Tahns!” Din shouts, his voice distorted and tinny from his helmet. Tahns turns and spots them, their shoulders falling and a small grin building on their face.

In the end, they all make it back to the _Razor Crest_ unharmed and groceries in hand.

* * *

”Oh no, ” Din calls out, inflection bland and monotone. ”My kid is missing.” He falsely bemoans, as if he can't see the green ear sticking out from behind the crate to his left. ”I wonder where he’s gone.”

”Tahns?” He calls out, still monotone save for the barest hint of amusement. ”Do you know where your brother is?” He catches sight of a flickering tail behind a crate to his right. 

Din sighs, then turns his back to both of his children.

”Oh no.” He says, loud enough that the kids can hear him as he leaves. ”My children are missing. Oh well. Guess I’ll have to go shopping by myself.”

–And at that, hid kids come tumbling out from their hiding spots, squealing and giggling as they hurry to their parent.

”We are not missing!” Tahns cheerily chirps. Din’s kid chortles out his agreement. 

”Hooray.” Din manages, half-heartedly raising his fist in the sit. ”Now, come on. Tahns needs some new clothes.”

* * *

Even if having children means the occasional disappearance of a toothbrush, Din wouldn't trade his kids for the world. He feels as if a cavity in his chest has been filled, despite the fact that he wasn't even aware there was something missing to begin with.

Din, for one of the few times in his life, is content.

**Author's Note:**

> hmm yes sure. I think I'll upload like two things tomorrow (today, technically)  
> 


End file.
